


heaven need a sinner

by captainangua



Category: Supernatural, Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, POV Waverly, POV Wynonna, References to Supernatural (TV), Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainangua/pseuds/captainangua
Summary: Wynonna woke up in a coffin and the first thing she registered was that she was hungry.*Going to hell for her baby sister was almost something Wynonna could live with, until it turned out that the world she was waking back up to was about to get a whole load worse. Apocalyptically worse, according to the real, live and infuriatingly serious angel who's just raised her from hell.





	1. ain't no grave

**Author's Note:**

> In which it seemed necessary to put the characters of Wynonna Earp into the plotlines of Supernatural season 4+ after binging most of the second season of the former in a day. So basically you could almost read this as a supernatural AU? Almost?
> 
> Not sure how much of an interest there will be for this or if it's been done already, but I needed more Dolls/Wynonna in my life and I'm having fun figuring out where all the characters fit.

Wynonna woke up in a coffin and the first thing she registered was that she was hungry.

 _Hungry_. Not in pain, not on fire, not putting someone else in pain. She was _fine_ , and she was alone.

And in a coffin. Still dead then.

Groaning, she instinctively tried to sit up, and bashed her head on wood. Wood. Huh. She’d have guessed Waverly wouldn’t be happy on getting her anything without all the trimmings… unless of course her sister had only planned on letting her stay in the ground temporarily…

“Goddammit Baby Girl, y’couldn’t have organized a lift up for me?”

Sighing, but remembering not to inhale to deeply, wanting to save air, wanting to stay topside now it seemed like she might have made it there, Wynonna reluctantly started kicking up with her knees. This was going to be a fun crawl up…

*

The good thing about taking a trip down to Hell, Wynonna decided as she felt her hand finally reach out to grasp empty air, was that in comparison it felt like the real world could hardly touch her. And this _was_ the real world. It had to be. She was feeling real hunger, real thirst, that was real sweat pouring off her brow causing all that dirt to stick it.

She was alive, and she was trying to remember what a fan-friggin-tastic thing that was.

But she was still alone, she realized as she stood up, to find no anxious sister waiting for her reaction standing around. Around… what looked like it had been a forest. Had, because something seemed to have come along and huff and puffed it all down.

“Waves, what the hell did you do?”

*

They unhelpfully hadn’t buried her in a coat, so Wynonna had to steal one, along with a phone, and enough money to buy a bus ticket, a coffee and a hamburger.

God, she’d missed burgers. Sort of. It had been less specifically missing anything and more longing for anything that hadn’t been where she’d been. But now she _wasn’t_ there…

After failing to make any emergency calls from the phone she’d acquired, Wynonna managed to find herself a barely working payphone at the back of an abandoned gas station, and had managed to get through to Gus and Waverly’s voicemails when there was this… screeching noise.

Screeching was the best way to describe what she heard, but as the windows around her start smashing and she closed her eyes tight she wasn’t all that sure she was even hearing anything – it was more that she could _feel_ a sound was happening, right down to her bones, shaking them.

So not back to normal yet then.

But when had her life ever gotten to be that?

*

It was a long week, but she made it back to Purgatory and Gus’s eventually. The Impala wasn’t parked outside so, assumedly, no Waverly, but the idea of seeing a familiar face – _any_ familiar face – was making Wynonna want to cry.

Which was partly why she went straight to Gus. Her aunt already thought, and had seen, the worst of her. Wynonna was ok with her watching her cry, but the rest of the nosying town she’d grown up with on and off? She’d rather pass on that…

The door might have been open, but the welcome Wynonna got instants after walking through the door was anything but friendly.

“What the hell are you?” came a growl from the woman who’d pointed a gun at her back.

“Glad to see you too, Gus.”

“You’re not her.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

The gun butted a little harder into her back. “Why don’t you tell me about me.”

“Ok _, fuck_ , right - your name is Gus Mcready. Y’basically raised me – reluctantly – whenever my Dad was out of town and wouldn’t take us with him. You fought to get Waverly to finish high school here. When I was fifteen you called the cops on a guy I’d brought home with me. Uh… you didn’t cry at Curtis’s funeral but… but I think you would’ve if there weren’t all those people around.”

Wynonna felt Gus start to lower the gun, or at least stop pressing it at her as hard.

“It’s me, Gus – wait what the -” Wynonna spluttered after a flask of cold water was dumped over her head.

“Well you’re not steaming at holy water but…”

“I’m telling you it’s _me_.”

Wynonna heard her aunt swallow and dared to turn around and face the woman now shakily holding a shotgun in her direction. She looked so much older. So much frailer.

“We buried you.”

“I know. Shitty coffin though. I’d be offended, but then again I _probably_ wouldn’t even have made it out if -”

Wynonna stopped talking as she got the breath knocked out of her from the surprisingly strong bear hug the tiny woman – still clutching her gun – was pulling her into.

“You’re home,” she heard Gus choke out, “Wynonna, you’re _alive_.”

“Sure,” Wynonna murmured, and held her aunt a little tighter.

“How?”

“Still working on that part,” Wynonna said grimly. She didn’t believe for a moment that good things had just started happening to her for no reason. She certainly didn’t deserve them to now.

*

Apparently, she’d been six feet under only three months when something had, somehow, woken her up, got her out.

Jack - he’d told her, had told her again and again that she wasn’t getting out. That no one was coming for her. And eventually… she’d given up, given in. Believed him.

Picked up his damn knives.

So that meant Waverly had been out hunting on her own three months. Three months of barely answering Gus’s calls, of driving away from Purgatory with the Impala, Peacemaker at her side. Driving off determined to find a way to reverse what Wynonna knew she’d felt she’d been the cause of.

But selling her soul to reverse Waverly’s death had never been Waverly’s fault. And it hadn’t been a bad deal that Wynonna would have ever had the will to turn down, not with her baby sister – the only thing in her life she hadn’t royally screwed up – lying there bleeding out in her arms. Nothing they’d thrown at her in Hell had ever exactly matched up to that moment.

She could tell her sister that much with some honesty, Wynonna reminded herself as she stood, ready to knock, at the door she was sure was hiding Waverly. She hadn’t been easy to track down, but no one knew Waverly Earp the way Wynonna could claim to. Gus had last heard from her here. There were a limited number of places in a small town like this that Waverly would consider, and one of those motels revealed, with some persuasion, that they’d let out a room to one of Waverly’s favourite aliases.

Course, she might have gained some more of those Wynonna knew nothing about. Three months might have felt like a long time up here too.

Wynonna exhaled for a moment before knocking. Did that knock sound like hers? Had she ever had a signature knock Waverly would recognize?

Whether she recognised the knock, it wasn’t Waverly who opened the door, but a different woman, wearing no more than a vest top and some admirably dazzling panties.

“Nice panties,” Wynonna murmured, already looking past the woman into the room. Yeah, that was Waverly in there on the bed in her underwear, staring at her slack-jawed.

Ok, so maybe a few things had changed up since she’d been gone, like Waverly’s sexuality, but there she was. Alive.

It had all been worth it.

“Wynonna…” Waverly breathed.

“Miss me?”

Waverly was already scrambling out of the bed and rushing towards her. Holding out her arms as the woman who’d answered the door stepped to the side, Wynonna found herself doused in holy water for the second day in a row.

“Should have expected that,” Wynonna muttered.

Wynonna searched her sister’s face. This was real surprise, unless Waverly had got a metric tonne better at lying in the few months they’d been apart.

Someone else had brought her back.

But who the Hell else would want to?

“Do I need to start spouting stats and secrets, Baby Girl, or you gonna believe me? I think I’ve still got grave dirt stuck in my fingernails that I don’t think I’m ever getting out if you wanna see – not that that proves anything good…”

Again, Wynonna couldn’t finish her sentence thanks to a bone-crushing hug from a tiny relative.

“So you _did_ miss me.”

“ _Wynonna._ ”

“That’s what I keep trying to tell everyone.”

When Waverly finally let her go Wynonna could see that her sister had already started crying. “It’s cool. I’m here now. Only had to go Uma Thurmanning that dumb coffin you left me in and I was fine.”

“But _how_? Oh God, don’t even answer that, I don’t care.”

 _I do,_ Wynonna thought, but kept on grinning. “So… gonna introduce me to your friend here.”

The girl standing with her arms crossed a few paces back from Waverly’s shoulder and for a moment Wynonna felt sure she should know her.

Waverly coughed. “Wynonna, this is actually…”

“Rosie,” the girl interjected a little quickly. “And I can see you guys are in the middle of something… _serious_ … so I’m gonna head off now,” she said as she bent down to pick up her coat and started walking towards the door. “But, uh… call me, ok?”

“Ok,” Waverly said softly, looking a little lost.

As the door closed behind her, Waverly folded her arms tightly over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “So. Hell.”

“ _So_ ,” Wynonna countered with a leer. “Rosie.”

*


	2. why have you come?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Awesome. I mean – sorry, Waverly. That’s my name. I’m Waverly. Hi,” she said, adding a wave at the end because apparently she was doomed to die not from demonic forces but embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so far I seem to be in the mood for short and frequent updates, which is pretty opposite from my usual writing scheduling, but hey! Variety, wooow

Waverly was happy that her sister was back. Obviously. Confused, and a little disappointed that she hadn’t been the one to make it happen, but happy. So when Wynonna wanted to head back to Purgatory immediately and for Waverly to drop everything so that they could get back and consult Gus’s books for answers, Waverly was happy to follow.

“Just… call me when you need me, because I ain’t following,” Rosita told her when they managed to meet briefly before the sisters drove off again.

“I get it,” Waverly said, a little relieved. “But why didn’t you want her to know you were?”

The demon shrugged. “Remember how well I know Hell? Believe me. You don’t walk fresh out of that in a good mood. And if even you blamed me at first for what happened? C’mon. Your sister is not gonna be happy to see me.”

“I still can’t believe she’s back…”

Rosita’s dark borrowed eyes searched Waverly’s face with a quiet concern. “Just… be careful. And check in with me soon. I’m hearing things and… people don’t just _get out_ of Hell. They don’t just resurrect. This shit is getting _biblical_ , and… yeah. Try not to get too caught up in it, ok?”

Waverly gave her lover a bright smile. “You know me. I’ll do what I can.”

“Well see, now I’m worried.”

Waverly kept a hand on Rosita’s wrist as long as she was able to as she started walking away backward from her. “Well… nobody’s destined to get dragged to Hell this year so… I’m feeling pretty great.”

*

Waverly continued feeling pretty great the whole ride up, getting to soak in the reality of her sister coming back and complaining about how Waverly had been treating the car, but she felt guilty coming back to Purgatory, back to Gus’s, and she didn’t like the feeling. Guilt sat uncomfortably with what she’d used to know about herself. It had admittedly never been hard with Wynonna as her sister, but Waverly had always managed to be the normal sister, the good one who might go places, who always came home.

But she’d barely answered of any of Gus’s calls since Wynonna’s death.

The thing was, that even after a year of dreading the moment her sister would be ripped from her, Waverly hadn’t been ready. It’s just… they’d always managed to win. That was the way they’d always managed to write their story. And it had seemed like Rosita might really have been able to help them, before her body had been taken over by the very demon with Wynonna’s debt.

Waverly hadn’t prepared to lose. Grieving with Gus, as a family for what had been the last of her’s, would have felt like giving in. So she hadn’t.

But Gus was still pleased to see her. True, she was almost as gruff with her as she’d usually be with Wynonna, but she didn’t say anything about how awfully Waverly had left her dangling. She left them together, debating over what their first move should be in finding out what had raised Wynonna, after only an hour of being back in the house, slipping out quietly with the excuse of wanting to pop in to see Shorty. Which she did. But mainly she wanted a drink, and some quiet.

God, but without Wynonna there she’d really started turning into her.

Which wasn’t fair, Waverly reminded herself as she smiled for Shorty and all the regulars of the bar she’d worked in all through her last year in high school. And kept smiling, and kept drinking.

Until her bizarrely timed pity party was interrupted.

“Not seen you around here before. You new?”

Waverly laughed, and turned to see possibly the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen on a real person, attached to the tall redhead in a cop’s uniform perched lazily on the stool next to her’s.

“Hardly. This is me, just… popping in to check out some old haunts,” she explained awkwardly, feeling caught off guard. “But, uh, you are. Right? New, I mean, you’re new?”

The girl smiled again and Waverly knew she had to be staring but wasn’t sure she could stop herself. “I am new. I’m Nedley’s new deputy, Officer Haught - at your service. Though, off duty right now, so you can call me Nicole,” she said, holding out a hand, which Waverly took, smiling like an idiot.

“Awesome. I mean – sorry, Waverly. That’s my name. I’m Waverly. Hi,” she said, adding a wave at the end because apparently she was doomed to die not from demonic forces but embarrassment.

“Well hello Waverly. Can I buy you a drink?”

“I actually, uh -” Waverly coughed. “I actually have a drink already. And… I’m really sorry, you seem…”

Nicole raised an eyebrow and smiled again, a little softer this time. “Awesome?”

“Yes! I mean, yes, you - you do. But I… I really need to get home. I’ve got relatives over we weren’t expecting.”

“Ah. The worst,” Nicole said, nodding in solidarity without taking her eyes off Waverly.

“Well… kinda the _best_ actually. Long story, but for a couple of months we really thought this person might be dead and, well… yeah,” Waverly said, getting to her feet as her head reminded her loudly and forcefully that she should shut her mouth already. “She’s not, as it turns out! So…”

“Another time,” Nicole said.

“Another time.”

Waverly almost tripped over three stools and did manage to walk into the door on her way out. How Wynonna hadn’t figured she was into girls earlier in their lives remained a mystery.

But what was certain was that Waverly didn’t deserve anybody to smile that way at her. Not anymore.

*

The town witch was not what Wynonna had been expecting, but really, that should only serve her right. She’d been hunting around the country and living around Purgatory long enough to have learned by now that the supernatural rarely turned up the way you thought it would. But this girl was probably of an age with her, and was still in her overalls from working at her metalwork in the back.

And she didn’t seem pleased to see them, but according to Gus, she’d owed Curtis a favour, so she kept her mouth closed.

“You guys get I wouldn’t usually do the whole ‘psychic’ gig for free, right?” Maddie said after inviting them in and taking off the oven mitts she’d been wearing while answering the door.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t usually do the gig for real either, and we need real,” Gus said, an edge of a growl to her voice as she sat down at the woman’s kitchen table. “We need to find out what brought Wynonna back to us.”

Maddie looked Wynonna over, seeming tired and unimpressed. “Do you really need to look the gift horse in the mouth?”

“We need to know,” Waverly said firmly before Wynonna had the chance to say anything, flashing Wynonna a quick smile as she did so. Wynonna continued to watch her sister carefully as they all took a seat. Waverly had been too quiet since they’d gotten back to Purgatory – too quiet, period. Wynonna’s bubbly, irrepressible sister hadn’t raised her head much at all – something had to be bothering her.

 _I’m back,_ Wynonna thought at her as she took Waverly’s hand for the séance. _Whatever it is doesn’t matter now, right?_

Wynonna tuned out for a lot of the chanting that went into the summoning, choosing to tune out and think about her sister some more. Was it the whole girls thing? Maybe Wynonna hadn’t given her a thorough enough sexuality talk…

“We summon thee, who raised Wynonna Earp from Hell. Answer us now and appear to us here.”

“Does it need to be ‘thee’?” Wynonna hissed, only to be simultaneously shushed by the rest of the table.

“We summon thee…” Then the woman’s eyes rolled back into her skull. Wynonna looked on curiously. Either she was a very talented performer or she really was connecting with the spiritual realm.

“Xavier? Xavier we thank you and summon you -”

“Like the X-men?”

“ _Wynonna._ ”

“Xavier, we summon thee to this table. Reveal yourself…”

Wynonna realized they might be past the time for jokes when she felt that same _rattling_ of the table, of her bones, that she’d felt when she’d heard that screeching which had broken all that glass back at the gas station. And it seemed as though there was a light, dimly beginning to appear at the bottom of the table…

“No,” the witch mumbled suddenly, before saying more strongly, “ _No_ ,” and pulling her hands back from Gus and Wynonna. By the time her eyes rolled back to normal the light had started to fade.

“What the fu -”

“What happened?” Gus demanded. “You said this would be _safe._ ”

“It should have been!” Maddie exclaimed. “But if I had held on then we would have all been blinded, or worse. I don’t think we could have looked at that thing.” She shook her head, clearly exhausted. “I’ve no idea what that thing was, but it wasn’t anything I’ve dealt with before. Or that I want to.”

“So not a ghost. Or a demon,” Waverly said quietly.

Maddie nodded. “Yeah. So what does that leave us?”

*


	3. you wear your masks i'll wear mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hell hasn’t improved your sense of humour.”
> 
> “It’s a giant-ass torture chamber, not an improv class."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol so it's been a while but here's some more in time for season 3!

“I still think this is a stupid plan,” Waverly was saying as Wynonna lugged the next box of candles into the back of the Impala.

“Y’could say I’m feeling a little reckless.”

Wynonna could feel the face her sister was making in her direction without having to look at her.“Ok… I can understand that. But developing a death wish just after figuring out how bad death can be seems…”

“Bananas?”

Waverly narrowed her eyes as Wynonna ignored her and opened the driver’s door. “Are you drunk?”

Wynonna shrugged. “Only to a _healthy_ degree. So - what, you don’t like my plan to summon up my Good Samaritan?”

“Not now we know they might turn our eyeballs to melted goo if we so much as look at them!”

Wynonna made a face. “And they can scream good enough to make glass explode…”

“Huh?”

“So are you coming with me or not?”

Waverly pouted, but as Wynonna had known she would, got in the car, and they drove off.

“Do you think Daddy would murder us if he knew about all the patchwork stitching we’ve been doing on the back?” Wynonna asked, as they passed the sign for leaving Purgatory. Maddie had advised finding somewhere big, somewhere disposable if they really wanted to go through with this, so that’s what they’d found – a big abandoned warehouse several miles out of town. No one would bother them., or hear them scream, as Wynonna had pointed out the night before.

After Wynonna watched her glance back at what had once been holes in the leather seats and now were pink, quilted and cotton, Waverly frowned. “What’s bringing that on? We did it partly _because_ Daddy would hate it, you know that.”

Wynonna nodded. “I don’t know. I guess… going to Hell, y’know? Daddy did that too. And for me, the idiot. I dunno, maybe we give him too hard a time.”

“I thought you didn’t remember what happened to you down there?”

Wynonna shook her head and concentrated harder on the road in front of her. “I don’t.”

Gingerly, Waverly’s hand wandered to rest on Wynonna’s leg. “Y’know, if you feel like talking…”

“I really, really don’t,” Wynonna snapped, before softening her face in apology. “Sorry. Just… there’s nothing to say if I can’t remember it. But thanks.”

Waverly drew her hand back. “Ohhh-kay.”

*

“It really does look almost… _pretty_ , don’t you think? Like… grunge chic, y-know?”

Wynonna frowned and gave the abandoned warehouse they’d covered in chalk and candles. Pretty definitely wasn’t the first word which came to mind as she looked around. Especially since she was waiting and not very patiently so she’d stopped focusing on her surroundings.

“How long is this supposed to take?” she moaned, keeping her voice carefully low.

But before her sister could give her an answer, Wynonna heard one for herself.

She’d been expecting the screaming noise. What she hadn’t expected was the sound of thudding on the roof.

“You think he can’t find the door?” she muttered out of the side of her mouth, just in time for the doors being thrown open – to great and worrying sparks from the electric lights above them – all to reveal a figure stepping in from the dark night.

And as Wynonna began making out more of the figure’s features she could see it was… a man.

Like a regular guy. About her age, maybe older; about her height, maybe taller; black; _nice_ jawline and wearing an averagely shabby suit, tie and tan trench coat.

“…Xavier?”

He made his lips twitch up into what almost looked like a smile and then that flash was gone. “You called. Rudely, and loud, and now you’re pointing a gun at me.”

“Well, apparently you’re the guy who keeps on screaming at me. So you’ll forgive me for being… twitchy.”

                The… man took another step forwards, almost swaggering. “My apologies. I thought you might be able to hear me. Because of the man I left on you.”

                Wynonna scoffed, still holding her gun up and wishing her hands weren’t trembling. She’d been practicing her marksmanship since she’d been a child, and she’d never had an issue with shaky hands before.

                “Well that’s just -”

                “There’s a mark on your arm, right? It’s from where I first gripped your soul.”

                Fuck, the way he talked it was like he was reading out a shopping list. It made Wynonna want to squirm.

                But it was also kinda hot.

                Wynonna risked a glance over at her sister who was of course mouthing, “ _gripped_ your _soul_?”

                “Ok buddy, why don’t you tell us what you are and what you did to my arm. And since that’s my baby sister standing behind me, I’m gonna have to ask you to stint on the details of anywhere else you might have been gripping there.”

                He started moving closer then and oh how Wynonna wanted to shoot. “I know who she is,” he said and Wynonna wanted to shoot even more, God did she want to shoot _something_. And it wasn’t because of the threat she knew he might be. It was all to do with the way he was looking at her – like he really could _see her_ right through all the trappings, like he knew who she was better than she did.

                Wynonna felt naked under that gaze.

                What a pervert.

                “I’m an angel of the Lord.”

                “And I’m Beyonce. Wait, you’re -” He just kept on staring, kept almost smiling. “You’re not joking.”

                “I tend not to.”

                Wynonna liked to think she was a good judge of character. A good judge of character with shitty standards maybe, but she’d spent her life hunting monsters – she figured she’d seen enough to recognize the eyes of one. This pair didn’t seem evil – that gorgeous dark depth was all human – but there was something about the _focus_ he had when he stared back at her that was definitely… unearthly. Not _bad_ exactly, but…

                Wynonna blinked. “Right.” She tried to force mockery back into her voice. “So an Angel of the Lord rescued me from Hell. Got it. Why not.”

                “But yeah,” Waverly chipped in, “no disrespect Mr Xavier, but… why? I mean PleaseLikeDoNotSendHerBack but, uh…”

“Thanks,” Wynonna said, cutting into her sister’s increasingly high-pitched voice. “But yeah. No way was I the only idiot own there who deserved out. So. How come God decides to pluck me out?”

                Again, he came very close to smiling, and again Wynonna felt examined – now like an unrecognizable sea creature that had just started talking.

                “You don’t think you deserved it. To be saved.”

                _Of course not,_ Wynonna wanted to scream but the presence of her sister held her back. Wynonna may have deserved to rot down in the pit for the rest of her sorry existence but she would move mountains to make sure that Waverly never figured that out. And this angel-dude- _thing_ was all the more annoying because he seemed to know all of that.

                Yup, he knew it all, and if he really had pulled her out than he’d seen it all too.

                Fighting down the urge to shudder, and not in the fun way, Wynonna tossed her hair back, breaking the eye contact that was still making her hands shake. “I don’t know about _deserve,_ but I do know that none of our family has ever gotten this lucky.”

Again with that almost smile that made her wonder if he was laughing at her. “Wynonna, I pulled you out of hell because God commanded it. And I am here now because you commanded me to. You are… important.”

Wynonna made a scoffing noise in her throat, and worried that she sounded like she was choking up.

_Important._

“Is this about the gun?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Your Peacemaker? Well, it is, and it isn’t. You’re a package, aren’t you?”

Wynonna looked down at her gun – her father’s gun, her great great whatever granddaddy’s gun. The demon killing gun. “Ok, Mr Cryptic. Tell me. Can my gun kill angels of the Lord?”

Finally, his lips were strung upwards in a real grin. “That’s a good question. Maybe we’ll find out together soon, Wynonna.”

“Well _maybe_ if I’m so _important_ you should start answering – _where the fuck did he go_? Waves, did you see -”

                “He wooshed.”

                “Wooshed isn’t a thing.”

                “Well it’s what he just did, right before he vanished.”

                Wynonna groaned. “Angels now? _Angels_. That’s -”

                “New.”

                “ _Yes._ ” Wynonna aimed a kick at the wall. Her foot felt worse but it helped with the frustration a

little.

*

                “Y’know. I tried getting Peacemaker to work for me before. When you were gone.”

It wasn’t exactly a stellar way of starting up a conversation, Waverly knew, but ever since the angel… guy had mentioned how important it was she’d felt like the words would tear their way out of her chest if she didn’t say them first.

                The way he’d _looked_ at her in that split second he’d torn his eyes away from Wynonna, just to say “I know who she is” – and Waverly still couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed, or angry or _afraid_ because of it.

                “Anything happen?” Wynonna asked, casual, not casual enough. Or, too casual.

                _I tried getting Peacemaker to work_. That just… didn’t do it justice, did it? But what was she supposed to say instead? That she’d been drinking too much every night for the first few weeks, _screaming_ at that fucking gun, that she’d even gone to a witch to figure out why she couldn’t be Wyatt’s heir now Wynonna was so long dead in the ground. And then that while she’d been in there if there might be a way to trade the useless thing to get her sister back.

                Rosita’s appearance had calmed things down a little, but Waverly had still kept it in her holster along with her actual working gun, every day, every time she walked outside. She’d held out hope, despite everything, that the gun would know her, recognize her well enough to let her kill the thing that had killed her last owner. But months past and the old gun had remained colorless, and empty of bullets.

                “No. Of course not.” She mustered a smile, to soothe her sister, convince her this wasn’t a big deal even if it still very much was.

                God what was wrong with her? What had happened to Waverly ‘living sunshine’ ‘life of the party’ Earp?

                …Waverly knew exactly what had happened to her, but that didn’t mean she wanted her sister to know all – or any – of those details.

                Happily, said sister currently wasn’t paying all that much attention to her.

                “I mean an _angel_. The closest I ever get to religion is in taking the Lord’s name in vain like a _lot_.”

                “Well… you were in Hell. So I guess that means Heaven’s gotta be in too.”

                Wynonna shuddered and continued to stare out at the road. “Ugh, I hate that. Imagaine that, some big bearded dude looking down on us from the sky and trying to figure out if we’ve been naughty or nice. Disgusting.”

                Waverly raised her eyebrows, smiling. “I think you might be thinking of Santa Claus there… And you _sold_ your _soul_ to a demon and God’s what freaks you out.”

                “It offends my atheism.”

                “Hmm. I think Dad was religious, y’know.”

                “ _No_ he was not.”

                “I’ve been reading through his old journals. It sounds like he was a big believer at heart.”

                Wynonna snorted, looking uneasy. “Sure.”

                Waverly decided not to mention everything else he’d talked about in those books. Seeing proof down in writing that he’d never thought his youngest daughter was even really human hadn’t made for easy reading.

                “So. I’ve been under the ground for three months – so my sex life has -obviously – been pretty _dead_ lately… but tell me about _yours_.”

                Waverly thudded her head back against the familiar car seat. This was always Wynonna’s seat growing up – Wynonna had been the shotgun, Waverly had just been the quiet kid in the back. And then recently the driver’s seat had been her’s.

                “Hell hasn’t improved your sense of humour.”

                “It’s a giant-ass torture chamber, not an improv class. Now spill already.”

                There was an almost desperation Waverly could detect now in her sister’s tone – a buried plea for something to still be normal. For Waverly could detect now in her sister’s tone – a buried plea for something to still be normal. For Waverly to ignore the angel, ignore the glib remark about torture and to let Wynonna tease her about her sex life like she used to.

                But of course even that was tainted now, little that Wynonna know. She wouldn’t be able to use Waverly shacking up with a demon as comedic material.

                That didn’t stop Waverly mustering up a long-suffering sigh. “So… I guess I’m into women now.”

                “I mean I _saw_ but _nice_ , nice. Girls always have more fun… so is that an exclusively girls thing?”

                Waverly squirmed in her seat. “I guess so?”

                “So were you able to appreciate the, uh, _form_ , of that angel man under his dumb coat?”

                “I’m a lesbian, Wynonna, I’m not _blind_.”

*


End file.
